Consulting the Billionaire (billionaire bbw erotica)

Abbie Givens was grasping for help, any kind of help, as her cherished doughnut shop sunk fast into cruel water of business in the big city. She didn't think Mrs. Belling, her elderly friend and neighbor would know anyone who could help but she jumped at the chance anyway. Little did she know the kind friend Mrs. Belling had was the shark himself, young rogue billionaire Rafe Williams.

***

"The thing with you Abbie, is that you're afraid to say just exactly what you want, even to yourself."
I tried drawing a breath and realized I was struggling. But how could I not, when a magnificent male body was so casually displayed in front of me?
Rafe didn't seem to notice, however, since he was still keeping his eyes on me, the deep green of them capturing me and not letting go.
I started to feel warm, my cheeks no doubt turning rosy with a blush, especially when one of his eyebrows went up just a fraction.
"Are you seeing something you want?"
Guilt heating up my cheeks, I lowered my gaze further, away from his naked chest... and, oh God, on to his lap.
Rafe had usually worn dress pants but it was a pair of jeans today and maybe I was just a horny girl, but the bulge that had kept me guessing all this time was now as casually in display as his well sculpted torso. My mouth started to turn dry as I thought about the exact sizevisualizing...
Oh.
He inclined his head, a lock of dark curls fell onto his forehead. "Well?"
"Ah. I... I'm trying."
"Good. You came in just now, bursting with ideas," he continued, leaning forward to speak, his face serious. "They're all there in your head already. Now try to break things down, don't worry about how many you end up with."
"All right..."
My eyes fell now on his legs, spread wide as he sat in front of me. My thighs, much too exposed under the stupid uniform skirt, were kept together between his knees, proper and demure.
I knew I should be doing what he told me to, breaking down my ideas for the shop into something I wanted, but... His fingers, long and slender, were splayed casually on his denim clad thighs and I wondered how they would look on my naked thighs, how they would feel... if his hands glided slowly up, sliding between my legs and then up under this short, short skirt...

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